


Seven O'Clock

by mallardeer



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, basically plotless, they have a baby!, where did it come from i don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 13:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10388058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallardeer/pseuds/mallardeer
Summary: Supergirl has an appointment she absolutely must keep, every night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I have borrowed this from Terry Pratchett's novel Thud! which is great, and you should read it. I also hope he doesn't mind and start haunting me or something. So here is just a little soft fic for you all.

This is turning out to be trickier than she’d anticipated when she'd set out from the DEO by herself. It was supposed to be just an illegal smuggling ring, but they actually have weapons that can touch her. And now she’s been backed into a corner. “Uh, Supergirl?” comes Winn’s nervous voice over her comm. 

“What, Winn?” she demands, round-house kicking a thug in the face. 

“It’s, um…” Winn gulps. “Six-fifty-five.” 

“Shit!” she swears, and takes out the next two guys at once. “Where’s Alex’s team?” 

“ETA at your location is…five minutes.” 

“Well, hell, looks like I’m taking all the bad guys down solo,” she grunts. As the next idiot rushes her, she grabs his gun and shoves him into a conveniently placed stack of crates. 

She has five minutes to get home. And at least 12 more of these guys to disable. But she’s Supergirl, isn’t she? 

She can’t figure out how to get the gun to work, so as she avoids fire from another couple of goons, she uses it as a bat to take down two more. “Six-fifty-six,” Winn says nervously in her ear. 

“Thanks, Schott,” she mutters, and fights her way out of a ring of attackers. 

There are at least five more still active, but now her mission is just to get out of there. But she’ll take as many out on her way as she can. The ice breath takes out at least two as she flies over their heads. There appears to be a fire in the area of the exit, so the only way out is up. 

“Six-fifty-seven,” Winn reports, but then she is hit in the back, and she crumples to the floor. 

She screams, not in pain, but in frustration. Seven o’clock is important. She can’t stand it, the idea that she won’t—the thought of that little face— 

“Kara?” comes the worried voice in her ear, and she grits her teeth. 

“I’m fine, Winn,” she insists, flipping to her feet. 

With her one goal in mind, she unleashes the largest torrent of her ice breath that she ever has, and takes off for the ceiling. “Supergirl? What’s your status?” Winn asks. 

“It’s done. Alex will be able to round them up,” she says, and punches a hole through the roof. “Six-fifty-eight?” 

“Six-fifty-eight,” Winn confirms. 

“Thanks, Winn.” 

“Anytime, Supergirl.” 

It is 6:59 when she lands on the balcony of her apartment with a complete lack of stealth, but oh well. She has appointment that must be kept. It takes less than ten seconds to ditch Supergirl for the clothes she’d worn to the office, and then she is at the door to the nursery, nudging her glasses up her nose. The clock on the wall by the crib ticks to seven o’clock, and a small voice coos, “Ma!” 

And all the grind and effort of being Supergirl melt away. Here, in this small room, is nothing but comfort and softness, the smell of soap and milk and the indefinable baby scent of her small son. 

“There’s my guy,” she says softly, lifting the baby out of his crib. 

He gurgles at her and chomps on his fist, and she laughs and kisses his soft hair as she carries him to the rocking chair. She can’t believe she’s actually not late. Sure, she probably could have been a minute late, even three or five, probably—and Alex’s job would have been a lot easier. But if you’re late once, even five minutes late… That opens the door to ten minutes, to half an hour, to the whole damn night, to her son growing up without her. So that’s the deal with herself. She’s still Supergirl, but she’s home every single night at seven o’clock. 

He sits up in her lap, clutching at her arm with one hand, the other still shoved in his mouth, and Kara picks up their books. They read together, first Where the Wild Things Are, with her doing all the voices, and him banging on the pictures and giggling. And then it is Goodnight, Moon, during which she shifts him from her lap into the crook of her arm. Soon, his head is resting heavily against her neck, and his breathing becomes deep and even, and the little fist he’s been gnawing on falls from his mouth to leave a puddle of drool on her shirt. 

Every single second is perfect. 

The baby is fast asleep by the time she finishes the short book, and she holds him and rocks him for a while. She should check in with the DEO, but they’re probably fine without her. This time alone with her son is the most precious part of her day, and she is loathe to let it come to an end. 

And so, without realizing it, she lets the calmness and stillness of the nursery, of her son’s small heartbeat soothe her to sleep. 

She wakes with a jolt to a dark room, suddenly filled with panic that she didn’t make it home, but then the baby murmurs and shifts against her, and she sighs. They’re both covered with a fleece blanket, and he is tightly clutching her shirt. Carefully, she gets up and settles him in his crib, smoothing his soft dark hair. 

Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders like a cape, she pads out into the living room, blinking in the glare from the lamps. “Here you are,” Lena says, setting down her tablet. “I let you sleep. I noticed you didn’t come in until three this morning.” 

Kara yawns and nods and goes to curl up on the couch. “Alex is going to kill me,” she sighs, putting her head in Lena’s lap. 

“I answered your phone when she called.” 

“I slept through my phone ringing?” 

“Well, it was on the kitchen table. But yes. That’s part of why I let you sleep.” 

“Mm, thank you,” she yawns, and Lena starts stroking her hair. “How was your day?” she asks. 

“Much less eventful than yours,” she says, and Kara chuckles. “You don’t think you’ll have to go out tonight?” 

“I better not. Is there food?” she yawns, and Lena laughs, full of fondness. 

“Yes,” she is saying, but Kara is already drifting back to sleep. Everything in her world is perfect for just this moment.


End file.
